


question of control

by uruhead



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Come Eating, Crimes & Criminals, Dirty Talk, Drug Dealing, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:31:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4941499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uruhead/pseuds/uruhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Previously, Chris had been an intern for the famous Hiddleston twins for a total of 6 months, traveling from country to country, continent to continent, assisting them with what they needed. After the internship ended, Chris is bereft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	question of control

**Author's Note:**

> i must thank [cheers-mrhiddleston](http://cheers-mrhiddleston.tumblr.com/) for creating such a wonderful idea with the Executive! Hiddleston and Criminal!Hiddleston twins AU. At first I couldn't find the oposts so I said that Tom was the executive and Will was the criminal but I switched that around when I found the posts. I did a little tweaking from the original post (found [here](http://cheers-mrhiddleston.tumblr.com/post/129913246132/tom-hiddleston-au-aesthetic-jagtom-and-exectom)) where instead of Will and Tom being exclusive to one another in their businesses, it's kind of a mutual benefit. Tom (the criminal) does his handiwork in different countries and even under the company's nose in London, while Will (the executive) works his magic for the media and keeps the entire business in legal boundaries. What Tom & Will do on their trips around the world are strictly business, and the finances can easily be explained by having multiple bank accounts under different people operating them. Joe Schmoe from Germany will probably not say no to an extra grand a week for making sure that this giant bank account doesn't get found out by the police & what the deposits are from. A criminal network is extensive under Thomas and William's wings man. beware.
> 
> good posts to learn more about this wonderful au: [[x]](http://cheers-mrhiddleston.tumblr.com/post/129958878522/teacuphiddles-meet-the-twins-william) [[x]](http://cheers-mrhiddleston.tumblr.com/post/129958911087/teacuphiddles-meet-the-twins-thomas)

William had been the one to answer his email personally, making sure that he set up an appointment with Chris for an 8pm trip to the top floor of the tower. William had said that Thomas would be there, “but it will likely go sour if you aren't punctual.”

 

They go to the same barber for the same haircut, the same tailor, they keep the same diet and the same workout routines, and their effete precociousness for the ideal business ethic just skyrocketed them to the very top years ago, nearly a decade now. They keep appearances because they must. They're perched at the tip of the pyramid, clinging to one another and only aiming to go higher.

 

Thomas ' hands are tucked away in his pockets,  his chin covered in some trimmed facial hair . His eyes are corrosively blue in the dim lighting in the Hiddleston building in downtown London.  William ' jaw is clean, and he smirks at the way his brother huffs frustratedly.

 

The Hiddleston twins are rich, beautiful, and have a firm grip over anything or anyone that comes into their path. They're  _perfect_ businessmen.

 

“Why is _he_ here?”  Thomas murmurs distastefully, glancing over. William clicks his tongue with the same tone. “Don't do that,” Thomas snaps, “Don't make me feel like I'm the one in the wrong here. I didn't do anything wrong. It was a question.”

 

“I didn't say anything,” William purrs.

 

“ _No_ , but you _meant_ it.”

 

“I didn't--”

 

“ _Why_. Is. He. _Here._ ”

 

William's smirk is still securely on his face before he turns to Chris and nods his head to let Chris speak.

 

It takes a moment, but he does, speaking more to  William than the more frustrated twin. “I was trying… trying to see if I could work under you two again.  The half-year as an intern with you was filled with some of the best experiences of my life!”

 

“You ruined a 1.4 million dollar deal, Mr. Hemsworth!” Thomas shouts. “You ruined it with you pretty face, why should I even consider allowing you to enter this building ever again? I should have thrown you out of the plane into the Atlantic when I had the fucking chance!”

 

“ _Thomas_ ,” William scolds, but he doesn't stop.

 

“I don't care if you were my _family_ , Hemsworth, when I told you to go to that buyer that night, you should have gone without hesitation.”

 

Chris shuddered. That night had been… something. A few months back, Chris had gone with both William and Thomas to Indonesia, the trip being purely to sell over a million dollars worth of cocaine and opiates to a buyer from South Africa who would trade on a relatively isolated island. The buyer had been interested in Chris, and though the twins were unwilling, they were more than unwilling to lose the investment and be stuck with that many drugs under their asses when they sat down with other high-ups in the building the next few days, especially the accountants they had to go through that thoroughly checked their bank accounts and expenses down to the nickel for legal purposes and  Thomas ' mandatory quarterly check with the police ever since “the incident” in college.

 

Obviously,  Thomas was still not happy that Chris had denied the buyer and they had lost the deal. They were lucky they sold the batch for a whopping 700 k (“ _Half?!”_ Thomas  had screamed, and  William had been so livid he had done something unmentionable in a bar that they covered up  as quickly as possible ) to  a relatively local buyer the next day in Taipei. 

 

“I'll make it up,” Chris says desperately.

 

“You want to fork over another seven-hundred thousand? I'll get the fountain pen and the big checks and you can write me one right now, darling.”

 

“I don't… I don't have money, but anything else. I can try to make it up to you.”

 

There had been a fling in the six months that Chris worked for the Hiddleston twins that only lasted a few nights, but between Thomas and William, Chris ached for days. He aches now.

 

William interjects softly, “Getting on your knees for us isn't going to make him feel any better, sweetheart.”

 

Thomas perks. “I don't know, it'd be a good start, that's for sure. Though,  if we wanted to do the math, if you wanted to  _whore yourself_ to us, I could definitely start taking out of that debt for every time you suck my cock.”

 

Chris' heart thumps in his throat, a lump that can probably be seen from across the room. “I don't know where to begin. I want to make it up to you. I want to be able to work for you again. You – you always said that I was the best assistant you had had ever since you started –  _I remember that_ , you  _know_ you said that.”

 

The twins meet in the middle next to the large wooden desk and perch on the middle of it.  William speaks up, and it hurts more hearing it from him than from  Thomas. “But is this assistant worth our investment?”

 

“ _Accidental_ investment,”  Thomas scoffs.

 

Chris feels faint, but he steps forward a few steps so he's only a few feet away from the both of them. “You have to decide that for yourselves, Sirs.”

 

It's like an electric field lights both of them up from the floor up to the tips of their ears. They both shift and shiver, standing a little straighter. It's quiet for a long minute, and Chris pleads again: “Please.”

 

William is usually the one to give up first, softer at heart (though with a rage that could eat through the hearts of most men within moments) and more forgiving to his friends and family. It surprises that  Thomas is the one that steps forward and rests his hand gently on Chris' hip, looking up the few degrees to meet his eyes.

 

It's like he's melting from the inside. He remembers Colombia, Puerto Rico, and Spain. Santiago de Cali had been filled with underground gambling, the shores of San Juan were populated with sandy toes and corralling the twins into the hotel room, and  Málaga  was drowned in the blood of Tom and William's incestuous coupling before one of the dead buyers  Thomas  had shot in the mouth.

 

Peeling his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Chris smack s his lips nervously.

 

“You're good to us, Mr. Hemsworth,” Thomas whispers. “I'm glad you can keep our little secrets even after you left us.”

 

William's hand sl ides  up along Chris' other side, startling him. Both twins were warm as they crowd him, their mouths slightly parted alluringly as they look up at Christopher with doe eyes. “You're a good pet, Mr. Hemsworth,” William purrs, fingers slipping down to the edge of his suit jacket. “ Always coming back when we call.”

 

It isn't hard for Chris' heart rate to skyrocket, but his body is nearly humming with his blood pulsing through him so fast. He is scared and turned on. He wonders if either of them have a gun on them, they usually do, and the thought only pours hot pleasure into his stomach like a splash.

 

Both the twins lean up and wrap an arm around him, kissing and sucking his neck. Chris' knees buckle.

 

The both of them catch him so he's still mostly on his feet, though they are a little displeased with the sudden weight. They wait until Chris is able to stand again, but the twins and back to sucking and nipping at his neck and jaw before Chris is really acclimating back to his bearings. He lets out a wispy moan.

 

“That's it,” William hisses.

 

“Little louder, darling,” Thomas growls.

 

One of Thomas' and one of William's hands come down and stroke at his thighs and groin interchangeably, not giving a Chris a chance. He swallows down air and lets out a throaty cry this time, legs shaking. The adrenaline running through him makes everything so much more intense.

 

It's been months for Chris, he can't get his mind off of these two, and now it's so satisfying he's worried he won't be able to last. He begs, “Wait...”

 

“Oh,” William chuckles in his ear, “Is our darling pet already there?”

 

“We don't want him to make a mess he can't clean up, dear brother.”

 

“True, why don't we help him from these trousers? Maybe when he cums we can make him lick his mess off our fingers and the _floor_.”

 

Before Chris really has a chance to deny the fact that he really doesn't want to lick his own cum off of the ground, his pants are down around his knees and Thomas is licking his palm and stroking Chris' cock.  William uses his hand to grope and palm at Chris' ass, nails biting into the skin. Their jewelry doesn't make it any better; the visual of Thomas' ring glinting in the lighting from the windows, the chill of William's expensive wristwatch glancing off of his skin on his ass and hip makes his pelvis jump.

 

Billionaires on both sides of him, a net worth of near 3 billion each and they're jerking him off.

 

The twins lean across Chris' chest and plant loving, possessive kisses on their mouths, and Chris can't help but dip his hands low and grip their asses back, thick fingers and vein-woven hands tensing and leaving them trilling like excited cats.

 

“Good boy, Christopher,” William says. His fingers wind down to Chris' groin, kneading his sac and nibbling on his neck.

 

“Mm, yes, _very_ good boy. Come on, now, Christopher. Don't keep us waiting.” Tom rests his head on his shoulder, looking down at his cock.

 

Chris shudders – they  _never_ say his first name – and he cums along Thomas' fingers, gasping for mercy from the wringing fingers and seeking mouths.

 

William does keep his word, he sticks Thomas' fingers in Chris' mouth, making Chris suck on the digits until they clean; he then gets Thomas to kick the back of Chris' knees and bring him crashing down to the hardwood. Beneath Chris' face, he can see the mess that he made, thick white cum cooling on the expensive ground.

 

He feels a shoe come down on the back of his head gently, pushing him down to smear his cheek in the mess first, then keeping him there to lick it away.

 

It's humiliating.

 

He  _loves it._

 

William pushes Chris to his side with a shoe to his ribs. Both Thomas and William look down at him, looking still  _impeccably_ composed, hands in their pockets, smiling.

 

“Bangladesh next week for nearly 1.6 thousand kilos of heroin,” Thomas says, voice analytical and monotonous. 

 

( _“Heroin usually goes for about 125.00 USD per gram in that area, 1 kilo is 1000 grams, that's...”_ )

 

Quickly doing the math, Chris gapes. 

 

“That's nearly _200 million dollars_ ,” he whispers.

 

Both of the twins grin.

 

“That's why we're going to need a distraction, darling.”


End file.
